


Marked

by DustToDust



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-16 22:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7287943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustToDust/pseuds/DustToDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint's used to falling in love too easily, but that doesn't make it any less awkward when he has to hide a soulmark from a friend. No matter how many times he's had to do it over the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marked

The mark had appeared months ago, right in the middle of a trick shot he’d been showing off on the range. The burning sensation over his heart was painful, but he’d ignored it to hit the target and collect his rightful winnings from a laughing Bucky before walking away. He’d forced himself to wait until he was in his quarters before looking at the mark that appeared.

A red star over a background of gray. Clint hadn’t been surprised in the least to see it appear though he’d really wished he could’ve --for once in his damn life-- avoided the awkwardness of falling in love with a friend.

The sad fact is that Clint just has a habit of falling for his friends. Falling hard, fast, and way too easily. It’s happened with Coulson, and multiple times with Natasha. Excruciating events that Clint had only managed to pull through because they both knew him so well that they didn’t let it get awkward.

He’d known it was going to happen again as soon as he was assigned to the team full time. Close contact in living and working conditions were just bound to get him someone else’s mark for while. He’d been hoping it wouldn’t happen until after the rest of the team got to know him better. Knew what to expect and not expect from him.

It was a good plan, and it would’ve worked if the mark that appeared on him was Tony or Thor’s like he’d suspected it would be. But this is Clint’s life, nothing goes right when there’s so many wonderful ways things can go wrong. So of course he gets the mark of Bucky Barnes barely a month after the man starts the slow integration with the team.

“FML,” Clint growls the letter that sum his life up perfectly and throws his shirt across the room.

~

Clint had a new plan. One that involved never, ever taking his shirt off again. Especially not around Bucky. At least not until the damn mark left him. Which wasn’t going to be anytime soon going by the way his gut would clench anytime he pulled an honest smile or laugh out of the man. Falling in love was easy for Clint, but the fact that he was staying in love was all Bucky’s fault.

His plan was going fine too, which was why he wasn’t the least bit surprised when Tony bullheadedly declared the night’s game to be strip poker. Clint often wonders what horrors he’d committed in a past life to be doomed to have the luck he has now.

Nat smirks as she lays out her hand and the table groans. Really, Clint should have just bowed out the minute he saw the shark like grin she was wearing, because no one beat Nat at poker if she didn’t want them to. A fact the rest of the team was now fully appreciating as she raked in the pot, with not one item of her own clothing gone.

“I’m out,” Bruce says with the lack of concern only he can pull off. The guy spent so much time wandering around naked after the Hulk came out that being naked just didn’t phase him anymore. He leaned back with Thor to watch the rest of them get picked off.

“Put it in the pot, Clint,” Nat says with and evil little smirk that he hates. He’s down to his boxers and shirt right now, and she damn well knows which piece of clothing he’s giving up. Knows exactly why he reaches down to shuck his boxers off and toss them in the middle of the table.

Tony whistles and gives the same knowing look he’d given to Bucky the previous round when the man had opted to keep his shirt over the underwear. A telling move that had made Clint’s heart sink down to about his feet, because of course Bucky’s marked on top of everything else. That’s just how life is for Clint.

“Fuck off, Stark,” Clint reaches out to gather up the cards to shuffle them for the next round and studiously avoids looking at anyone else. The next hand is going to end in the loss of his own dignity. He might as well be the one dealing the cards for it.

“You too, Barnes,” Tony’s attention is turned easily with the promise of a softer target. “Lose the shirt!”

Clint focuses on shuffling the deck, keeping his eyes on the blur of the cards as he sees the stiff movements Bucky makes out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t look over when Tony shouts triumphantly, “I knew it!”

He gives Bucky his privacy until one of Steve’s shoes nails him in the chin. Cursing he looks up at Nat who is giving him one of her deadly looks before she slowly and deliberately turns her head towards Bucky. Clint follows her line of sight reluctantly and then forgets about the pain in his head altogether. “Really?”

There’s a scrape of legs on the floor and Bucky’s gone in a flash. Clint’s too dazed to even appreciate the rear image of the man walking away as he tries to figure out if someone slipped some drug into his drink or not.

“Clint,” Steve’s voice. Firm and commanding like they’re on the field snaps him out of his thought. He gives Clint a level look and then points out the door after Bucky. “Go.”

It’s one order that Clint has zero problems following.

~

He catches Bucky just before the elevator doors close and barely snakes his way in. Wincing at the cold flooring against his feet and making him very conscious of the fact he only has a shirt on. “I didn’t mean- I just, really?”

He’s babbling stupid things as Bucky stands there rigidly, staring grimly ahead. Not bothering to hide any of his nakedness, or the mark clearly visible on the skin over his heart. Clint’s never seen his own mark before. No one has ever carried it. He stares dumbly at the concentric rings of a bulls-eye. Purple, because Clint’s damned to be followed by that color his whole life.

“I’ve never seen it before,” he says because he can’t think of anything else to say. He’s still stunned over the revelation. “No one’s ever had my mark before.”

“That a problem?” Bucky asks sharply, his voice is controlled and even but he’s looking at Clint now. Challengingly. Like this confrontation isn’t hurting him. Which it is because Clint’s been in his shoes –or lack of them– and he knows how much this part sucks.

Clint doesn’t respond. He just pulls his shirt off over his head and lets it drop to the floor. Standing there silently as Bucky’s eyes zero in immediately on his chest. For second, Bucky looks absolutely stricken and then it’s a blur.

The wall is freezing against his ass, but the heat of Bucky’s right hand stroking his own mark on Clint’s skin is hot, and his mouth even hotter. Clint’s last coherent thought for a while is that he hopes no one else needs to use the elevator.


End file.
